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 Aug 2015 Sana
SE Reimer
~

a dear friend of mine wrote this after losing
her best friend and mother, and almost immediately after,
also her beautiful voice.  as with so many things we write
during our most trying times, these profound and poignant lines
were written during her voice-less struggle.


~

stress tightened it's noose on me,
i couldn't say a word.

people saw my lips move...
but little could be heard;

doctors asked me, 'does it hurt?'
and followed my, 'yes!', with, 'where?'

moving my fingers to my heart,
i softly whispered... 'there!'

~

*by Sunshine Dixon

~

post script.

i am grateful to be able to write that
after an extended period without it,
Sunshine's beautiful voice was finally restored.  
i re-discovered this write while perusing through
some past correspondence and on seeing it
decided right then that it would be selfish
to not share my love for her voice
with all of you!
 Aug 2015 Sana
Ameliorate
Untitled
 Aug 2015 Sana
Ameliorate
~
~
I've lived a thousand lives
And died a thousand deaths
Within the pages of my notebooks
~
~
 Aug 2015 Sana
Stephen E Yocum
I too have taken a two month leave of HP.
I don't think anyone noticed. That is how it is on
Social Media, words that live only for a day or
two turning to cosmic cyber dust and forgotten
as such.  As if only the now, the new matters
and perhaps only to their creator. Like a fleeting
thought in our mind, here and then quickly gone.
Replaced by hundreds or thousands more.

"Old Poets never die, they just fade away."
But I for one Joe Cole, will miss your thoughts
and words. As I too fade away, take my leave
to write another book. Loved my time here
as I'm sure you did too.

Be well sir, be well all you creative people.
All the words matter as do you.
Sincerely signed,
Another old poet.
Seeing things for what they truly are is important.
Social Media is not a Life Style. It's a dalliance , a
recreational endeavor at best. Best taken and enjoyed
is small doses, avoiding obsession.  Real life and living
does not dwell on a lighted screen,  within the chips of
a computer. We need to take a walk, open our eyes.
Real Life is all around us.
 Aug 2015 Sana
Stephen E Yocum
I open my eyes and there he'd be,
Sitting at the edge of the bed,
Staring right up at me.
I swear his eyes and expression
Have love written all over them.
A silent message impossible not to see.

I pat the bed and up he comes,
Flops down beside me and
nestles his head upon my chest,
A big contented sigh his only utterance.
This our ritual of the morn,
He always waits, never jumps the gun.
Waits for permission like any good son.

What do they think I wonder,
What drives their loyal companionship,
Their unconditional love for we human beings?

Truly did we ever have a better friend?
A shadow, follow us anywhere,
Willing to take a bullet to protect us,
Cries when we leave them,
Always overjoyed to see us even if it's only
been minutes since we left their sight?

What other living creature is so willing to
overlook our failures, our unintentional abuse,
And never guilt us for these our all too human mistakes.

I wish I only knew more people,
That had the loving, steadfast
Nobel character of a faithful dog.
Oh, what a better world this would be
if only we acquired some simple animal behavior.
Today my Boxer Dog "Tucker" moved me to
put feelings into words to share.

I have missed all you guys and can never begin to
catch up with all the many fine words that have
flowed across the HP site in my absence. I do send
you all my affection and hope life is being good to
you.
S.
 Aug 2015 Sana
Joe Cole
In Flanders fields grow poppies red
Stained by the blood of the youth now dead
Some who then could barely read nor write
But still marched bravely to the fight
They did not understand
For them the countries call to arms
Meant boys so young must meet demands
And for many that meant death
And others then  did come to fill the spaces
Left by those now gone
And in their turn they also shed their blood
In their turn died screaming  in liquid mud
As they died the blood they shed
Was the food on which the poppies fed
Poppies growing on Flanders fields
Flanders poppies, deepest red
 Aug 2015 Sana
Joe Cole
In the memory of those who gave their young lives for our freedom

In Flanders fields red poppies grow
To line the graves of boys so young
Who lie in thousands buried in Flanders clay
Boys whom for our tomorrow they gave their today
Now just memories but kept alive
By the blood red poppies of Flanders fields
We must never forget the sacrifice
 Aug 2015 Sana
SøułSurvivør
---

I've taken down a write I liked
I put troll heads upon a spike.

But rather than highlight these guys
I've decided that's not wise!

We think we HELP the trollish prey
While we scare new folks away

I just had a conversation
With one of my favorite relations

My bro in law is expert
In handling the ones who hurt

He works as a computer ****
And here's the advice that he gives

When in doubt, remember, souls,
They love the light...
DON'T FEED THE TROLLS!!!


SoulSurvivor
(C) 8/16/2015
Let's start a new movement...

"STARVE THE TROLLS LOVEFEST"

DON'T GIVE THEM ANY ATTENTION

LOVE on the new people.
Help them feel SAFE here.

Please Google "Don't feed the trolls"

Thanks!
♥ Catherine
...
.
this heart is restless-
made with a stone
this soul is an empty space-
where the stone is preserved
memories are burning ashes-
flying around a circle
wind blows beyond the limit-
but the stone is silent-
even after the random million echoes
..
.
@Musfiq us shaleheen
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